


Precognition

by Kantayra



Series: Atobe/Tezuka Canon 'Verse [1]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Fate & Destiny, Fortune Telling, M/M, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: At a sleep-over party at the end of their second-year, Fuji Yumiko reads her brother's teammate's fortunes. Tezuka is thoroughly unimpressed with her psychic act, until her foretelling about his own future love life contains something that he would never have predicted.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely spookily themed in honor of Halloween. I always liked Yumiko and her own unique brand of weirdness, so I decided to play with her supposed psychic powers here.
> 
> This work is a prequel to all the existing stories in 'The Best-Laid Plans' series, so I've bumped it to the front of the series in series chronological order, rather than writing order.

Tezuka Kunimitsu did _not_ believe in fortune-telling.

Admittedly, the topic hadn’t actually come up before tonight. The Seigaku tennis-team second-years (soon to be third-years) had all come over to Fuji’s house for a sleepover over break, and Inui (who was already vaguely creepy in a stalker-ish sort of way) had been trying to scare them with horror stories, lights turned out and flashlight under his chin, and Kikumaru (who was overly emotional) and Kawamura (who tended to be a push-over) had started to actually get scared at one story about a psychic who could foresee death, until Oishi (who was usually respectably tolerable) got overly concerned and tried to reassure them: “There’s no such thing as psychics, guys.”

At which point, Fuji (who was just _weird_ ), had suddenly announced, “Actually, my big sister is a psychic.”

Everyone blinked at that with some degree of either skepticism (Tezuka, Inui, and Oishi) or horror (Kikumaru, Kawamura, and – again – Oishi).

Inui adjusted his glasses and finally admitted, “That’s not possible. It was just a scary story.”

Kikumaru and Kawamura breathed out a sigh of relief.

Fuji just smiled pleasantly. “The story, yes. But my sister really is a psychic. She can’t curse anyone to death, but she _can_ see into your future.”

“There is no scientific evidence for any kind of psychic powers,” Inui insisted.

“Oh?” Fuji’s smile turned dangerous. “I had her do a reading for me right before Prefecturals. She predicted the finals outcome against Hyotei perfectly: Oishi and Eiji win in Doubles Two, Tezuka wins in Singles Three, me on the bench as reserve, everything else as a loss.”

“Really?” Kikumaru said, wide-eyed. “That is _so cool_!”

“That’s amazing,” Kawamura agreed.

“Uh…really?” Oishi looked torn.

“It must have been coincidence,” Inui said stubbornly. “It’s not that hard to guess that Tezuka would win, after all.”

“My sister’s never wrong,” Fuji insisted in such a way that Tezuka _really_ wanted to warn Inui to stop poking the Fuji, before something bad happened. And then, horrifyingly, Fuji turned on _him_ : “What do you think, Tezuka?”

Everyone else turned to look at him, too.

“Yeah,” Kikumaru agreed. “You’re going to be our captain in another month. You get to decide.”

“What I think won’t change whether psychics do or don’t exist,” Tezuka pointed out wearily.

Kikumaru’s face fell, like it hadn’t occurred to him before that junior-high tennis-team captains weren’t omnipotent enough to rewrite the laws of physics.

“There’s a simple way to test this.” Inui had clearly dug his feet in on the side of science and wasn’t budging, despite the true horror that was defying Fuji in anything. “Your sister can make a prediction now, and we’ll see if it comes true.”

“Hey, yeah!” Kikumaru said excitedly. “I want to know my future too! It’s not fair of Fujiko to keep all these cool secrets from us.”

“It would be…interesting,” Oishi conceded. “Not that I doubt or anything! I’ve just never had my fortune told.”

“It sounds fun?” Kawamura said shyly. “If Fuji and his sister are both okay with it, that is?”

“Yumiko _loves_ doing readings,” Fuji beamed. “How about you, Tezuka?”

Everyone turned to look at Tezuka _again_.

“It’s…fine,” he finally said reluctantly.

“Yay!” Kikumaru cheered, while Fuji ran upstairs to grab his sister.

***

That was how Tezuka had ended up seated with the rest of his teammates around the Fujis’ dinner table, watching Fuji Yumiko and Inui’s stand-off.

“If you can predict ten out of ten tosses of this coin, I’ll believe you,” Inui said.

Yumiko just smiled at Inui in a vaguely disturbing way. “It doesn’t work that way. I can’t read objects, just people.”

“Fine,” Inui said. “I’m thinking of a number between 1 and—”

“I can’t read thoughts,” Yumiko laughed lightly, “just events.”

Inui took a deep breath and tried again.

“Only certain events that follow important life-trajectories,” Yumiko cut him off before he could even begin.

“And the outcome of a tennis match qualifies?” Inui said skeptically.

“The outcome of that tennis match was a key pivot-point in someone’s life. So, yes, I could read that,” Yumiko agreed with benign tolerance.

“I guess that makes sense,” Oishi spoke up, trying to head off Inui’s upcoming argument at the pass. “Why don’t we just let Yumiko take the lead?”

“Fine,” Inui finally agreed.

Yumiko gave him an ethereal smile. “Let me see your palm.”

Inui offered his right hand.

Yumiko took it between her hands and stretched out his thumb, so that she could study his palm thoroughly. “You have a strong life-line with, interestingly, a number of branches. Normally, I would say that’ll make you a doctor when you grow up, but that’s not quite right in this case. Your head-line indicates an analytical streak, mixed with a strong desire for experimentation.”

Inui snorted and Tezuka agreed, because that last part about him was blindingly obvious.

“The reason it’s so clear in your palm is because it’s such a prominent trait of yours,” Yumiko insisted with infuriatingly circular logic, Tezuka thought. “And since I also know you like to play tennis, I’m recommending that you consider becoming a manager. You’d be good at coming up with training regimens. In fact,” Yumiko studied his palm intently, “with the way your fate-line runs, I’d say it’s your destiny.”

“I’m a regular now,” Inui scoffed. “I don’t have time to be manager, too.”

“Hmm,” Yumiko agreed mysteriously, “for now, at least.”

Inui sputtered at the completely ridiculous idea that he would somehow _stop_ being a regular.

“Your heart-line is a bit muddled, though, dear,” Yumiko said sweetly. “It reads like your feelings are confused. Inappropriate, maybe?” She fluttered her eyelashes up at him.

Inui blushed bright red and snatched his hand back as if burned.

Yumiko continued to smile sweetly.

Fuji snickered slightly into his fist.

“I want to go next!” Kikumaru waved his hand wildly in the air.

“Sure!” Yumiko agreed happily and took his hand. “Oh, you are the impulsive type, I can read it right here. Your heart-line is totally emotional.”

“One for one!” Kikumaru agreed, practically bouncing in his seat.

Tezuka sighed. It was another obvious prediction. Inui might be embarrassed out of action, but Tezuka was starting to see how this went. Yumiko was observing their personalities through how they interacted, combined with things Fuji had mentioned about them and the various games she’d watched, no doubt. Assuming Yumiko had the same cunning that her younger brother did, it was simple enough to piece together fairly plausible futures for all of them. Even the misdirection she’d used on Inui was straightforward: who would bet _against_ a teenage boy having inappropriate thoughts when a beautiful woman held his hand? It was all just an interesting and clever psychological trick.

The rest of Kikumaru’s reading bore out Tezuka’s suspicions: “You should trust your emotions and what you see with your own eyes. Your quick instincts will guide you well, as long as you have someone sensible in your life to look at the big picture.” It was what anyone who had watched one of Kikumaru and Oishi’s doubles matches would’ve said.

“That’s awesome!” Kikumaru said, clearly a believer. “What does it say about when I’m finally going to get a girlfriend?”

Yumiko laughed and traced one of the lines of his palm. “Like I said, look for someone sensible. Maybe someone you’re overlooking already.”

Kikumaru frowned, puzzling over this, and Oishi blushed horribly next to him.

Yumiko gave Oishi a wink when Kikumaru wasn’t looking, which just made Oishi blush _more_.

“Taka should go next!” Fuji said enthusiastically, nudging Kawamura, who’d been sitting shyly off to one side, over into the seat beside Yumiko.

“Uh, if…you wouldn’t mind?” Kawamura said meekly, looking up at Yumiko hopefully.

“This is the clearest life-line I think I’ve ever seen,” Yumiko said after looking at his palm. “You’re a lot stronger than you look, Taka.”

Kawamura was blushing _already_. Tezuka supposed flirtation was another good trick for turning one’s opponents to one’s side.

“Your lines are all shorter than I would expect, though,” Yumiko pondered.

“Is that bad?” Kawamura looked worried.

“No, it just means that you give in too easily to other people,” Yumiko said. “If I look at how your heart-lines and your head-lines run, it shows you have a great conflict ahead: what you think you should do and what you feel you want to do. But, in the end,” Yumiko traced one line with her fingernail, making Kawamura shiver, “the conflict you imagine you’re fighting will turn out to not really be there at all, as long as you say what’s in your heart.”

Kawamura thanked her and considered her words thoughtfully.

“Oishi’s turn!” Kikumaru voluntold, pushing a still-blushing Oishi into the hot seat.

Oishi nervously stuck out his hand. Yumiko, thankfully, didn’t try to flirt with him. “This one is _definitely_ going to be a doctor,” she concluded.

“R-Really?” Oishi said hopefully.

Tezuka smiled inwardly to himself. It was no big secret on their team what Oishi wanted to be when he grew up; Fuji had no doubt mentioned it to Yumiko.

“And,” Yumiko concluded, “don’t worry. The person you love will love you back. You just have to give them some time to figure things out.”

 _That_ set Oishi off blushing again.

“What?” Kikumaru said in disbelief. “Oishi _likes_ someone? Who, Oishi, _whooooooooooooo_?”

“I… Uh… I…” Oishi stuttered hopelessly.

“This person could still be in his future,” Yumiko kindly helped him out of his predicament. “You never know.”

“Oh,” Kikumaru said, disappointed, “rats. You’d better tell me as soon as you meet her, though, Oishi!” he warned.

Oishi coughed.

“Some time to figure things out…” Yumiko repeated vaguely.

Tezuka snorted. If even _he_ had noticed Oishi’s little crush, it wasn’t like Oishi was being _subtle_.

“I think Fuji should go next!” Kikumaru announced.

Inui blinked out his daze for a second and reached for his data notebook. “Yes, please,” he agreed almost orgasmically. “ _Read Fuji_.”

“Oh, I’ve read Shusuke dozens of times,” Yumiko waved them off. “That’s no fun.”

“Besides,” Fuji agreed in the same pleasantly evil tone, “Tezuka hasn’t gone yet.”

Everyone turned to look at Tezuka. _Again_ again. This was starting to become a trend. Tezuka didn’t particularly like it.

“Yeah, come on, Tezuka!” Kikumaru said. “You’re going to be captain, so maybe we’ll find out that we’ll win Nationals next year!”

Tezuka wanted to object, but this really was all harmless fun (as opposed to some of the more hair-brained ideas of ‘fun’ his teammates were capable of coming up with), and in the end, it was an interesting test: Could Tezuka figure out what Yumiko had figured out about him?

So he took the seat beside her without complaint, but without much particular enthusiasm, either.

 _She’s going to say that I’ll win my matches this year, and be a tennis pro or maybe a coach_ , Tezuka predicted. That really was the obvious choice.

Instead, Yumiko frowned down at Tezuka’s palm for a long time, looked back up at Tezuka, and then frowned down at his palm again. She did this so many times that Tezuka started to get nervous.

“Is something wrong?” he finally asked.

Yumiko bit her lip. “I just…” She frowned again and studied his palm carefully. “This can’t be right.”

“What? What?” Kikumaru leapt out of his chair and ran over so that he could see Tezuka’s palm, too.

Fuji also leaned over and started frowning. “What are you seeing, Yumiko?” he asked anxiously.

Yumiko took a deep, fortifying breath. “Your heart-line,” she finally said doubtfully, “is incredibly strong. You are going to meet someone very soon, and they’re going to completely sweep you off your feet, and the rest of your life is going to be a whirlwind romance with this person.”

“ _What_?” everyone, including Tezuka, all said in complete disbelief, in unison.

Yumiko laughed nervously. “That’s what it says, right here. It’s not like I’m making this stuff up.”

“That can’t be right,” Fuji said, in eerie echo of what Yumiko had said earlier.

“Maybe Tezuka has a tennis-line instead where his heart-line should be?” Kikumaru joked, for which Tezuka glared at him.

“There are things about tennis, too,” Yumiko said, coming out of her shock somewhat. “There’s a weakness in the life-line right here and then a sharp break, which indicates some sort of injury or illness. I’m guessing an injury, because of the tennis.”

Tezuka froze and exchanged a quick glance with Oishi. How could Yumiko possibly know about his elbow? He hadn’t told Fuji or anyone else on the team. Or had Yumiko somehow spotted it in his movements? He’d been trying to keep it a secret, and the thought that he’d failed so noticeably was alarming.

Yumiko went on seemingly obliviously, but Tezuka was willing to bet that she’d spotted his reaction and would play into it. “Interestingly, the injury happens at the same time that your fate-line crosses your heart-line. Before that, your heart-line is scattered; you may already know of the love of your life, but you’ve been passing like two ships in the night, until fate steps in here and the two of you meet head-on and you’re somehow hurt in the process.”

That seemed like quite a lot of nonsense, and weirdly specific nonsense, too. Tezuka frowned, trying to figure out what trick she was pulling.

“The life-line reforms here, though,” she pointed to the area just above the base of his thumb, “so the injury will be healed.”

Tezuka nodded. That was moving back into classic ‘tell them what they want to hear’ fortune-telling mode.

Undoubtedly reading his responses, Yumiko went on in a similar vein, “The juncture of the heart- and head-lines indicates a single-minded intensity. Combined with the knowledge-seeking perfectionism of the head-line, I’d say that applies to tennis style, too.”

 _Predicable_. Tezuka nearly breathed a sigh of relief that the strange fluke in his own predictions was over, before Yumiko struck once more:

“But the love-line… That is, by far, the most prominent.” She traced the line below Tezuka’s fingers with her fingernail once more.

Everyone squinted down at Tezuka’s hand incredulously.

“Also, I’m not sure what it means that you’ve got this birthmark by your love-line here. Some indication that your lover is marked in some way, that only you’ll know?” She bit her lip. “But that’s just a wild guess, of course.”

Tezuka finally snorted and pulled his hand back. “Thank you,” he said politely. “That was most illuminating.”

Everyone slumped a little because, if what Yumiko said about Tezuka’s ultra-exciting love-life was so far off, then that cast doubts on all their fortunes, too.

“That was fun!” Kikumaru finally said, always the first to cheer up. “Let’s play video games next! Thanks, Yumiko!”

Everyone else thanked Yumiko in due turn and followed Fuji back up to his room to play on his TV.

Tezuka, who’d never had much interest in video games, followed them all at a more sedate pace, which meant he was the last of their group to leave. Which, in turn, meant that he and Yumiko met at the door, awkwardly.

Tezuka blanked on anything remotely polite to say.

But Yumiko just winked at him. “You’re so lucky,” she assured him. “He’s going to be drop-dead gorgeous. And _very_ good at tennis. You won’t know what hit you.”

Tezuka’s eyes widened at the ‘he’. How on earth could she possibly have noticed that—?

“Oh!” Yumiko said in sudden, wide-eyed realization. “I got so distracted by the rest that I almost forgot to tell you! Seigaku _is_ going to win Nationals next year. But only if you let the first-year play.”

“What?” Tezuka said, because that made even _less_ sense.

“Good luck,” she winked at him again and left.

Tezuka sighed. Clearly, the whole Fuji family was just plain insane.

Clenching his fist and fighting the urge to flinch at the corresponding twinge in his elbow, Tezuka chose to forget all about it and followed the rest of his teammates upstairs. After all, he’d always known there was a reason he didn’t believe in fortune-telling.


End file.
